Shift Iridescent
by Roxal
Summary: This is nothing but a bloodstained memory. Warnings: Death. Suicide. Rape. Violence. Super angst. Status: Oneshot. [Noncon AnsemRiku, Onesided RikuSora]
1. Shift Iridescent

It felt so weird, to just look down at my bloodstained hands. For a while I had no idea what the hell was going on. I wasn't even sure of where I was. I looked from the shimmering blood up to the ceiling, where an amber heart was slowly rising, leaving bits of silver behind to hang in the air and dissipate. I looked back down to the knife I held. It was shaped like the wing of a demon and equally drenched in scarlet. What am I doing? Did I just ki- no, no, I couldn't have. Then I looked at the ground in front of me. And I broke.  
  
"No..."  
  
I dropped to my knees, cradling his broken body in my arms. "No." I whispered as I rocked him gently. "No, no, no, no, no, NO!" I defied my own actions, crying openly. My tears splashed on his face and cleaned some of the blood from his cheeks. "Sora, wake up." He didn't stir. I shook him by his shoulders. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Each shake became harder and more violent until I accidentally threw him from my arms. My breathing was labored and shallow. I was about to stand and go to him again when it hit me.  
  
It was me. I had killed him. I had... But... I hadn't. Or at least, I didn't mean to. I... I didn't know anymore. I was rarely ever myself lately, not since that day... It was like I couldn't control myself. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. There were times when I'd wake as if from a dream to survey chaos I had unwittingly created. Truly, this was hell.  
  
I had fucking killed him. No matter how much I wished this was just a horrible nightmare, I knew it had been me, and his sleeping eyes would never wake. No matter how much I didn't want it to be, I knew it was my fault. I rose to my feet, my nails digging into my palms, drawing my own blood to mix with Sora's on my jaded hands. It hurt. I deserve this.  
  
"Thank you." A deep voice crooned seductively in my ear. I felt a hot tongue lick my cheek and soon Ansem's orange eyes were boring into my own. "You made it all too easy." He walked over to Sora's body and nudged it with his foot. His smirk filled my heart with hatred. He had used me to kill the one person I loved. I never meant for it to be this way. Ansem strolled up to me importantly and slid his hands up inside the back of my shirt. "He's dead, no doubts there." His lips caressed my face as he spoke. "Now, with that keyblade and your heart," He placed a powerful hand on my chest, "I will be unstoppable."  
  
I closed my eyes and submitted. I had fought him off for so long, but no good had come of it. In the end, he had won. Sora was dead. Ansem had everything he wanted, even me. He kissed me roughly, sliding his tongue effortlessly into my mouth. I didn't kiss back, but I didn't fight him, either. Ansem pulled away and looked at me curiously. "What's the matter?" His lips curled in a malicious grin. "Did your spirit die with him?" I didn't answer. I just looked at him, unblinking, tears flowing from my eyes. "I think I can get a rise out of you." His grin broadened as he pushed me to the floor. "Your spirit is what makes your body worth keeping around, you know." I looked at him. What the hell was he talking about?  
  
"I needed your heart, of course," he said, as though he had read my thoughts, "which was all too easy for me to obtain. I thank you once again." He nodded his head in a sort of mock bow. "You have such a strong heart, and your spirit is nothing less than arousing, but alas, you have a very weak mind. You let me help so readily; I could hardly believe it. It was over so quickly I barely needed to screw around with you much at all. In almost no time you were just an over-sized marionette." He smirked evilly and pushed his face close to my ear, his cheek touching mine. "You're weak."  
  
I clenched my eyes tight. It was true. I could never match Ansem in physical strength, which he was so quick to prove whenever I stepped out of line, but I had never thought my mind would fail me. But I suppose that it was true. When I want something, I'll do anything to get it, no matter how bad it is. The end justifies the means, I thought. Ansem seemed to be a relentless personification of that belief. I had never meant for it to go this far. I had only wanted Sora back. He was all the mattered to me. Now he was dead.  
  
"What's wrong with you today?" He stared at me with mild agitation. "No futile resistance? Nothing to say in your defense? You stupid boy. Have it your way." He pulled my hair, making me squirm as I let out a painful yelp. I deserve this.  
  
Why bother resisting? He wanted me, didn't he? Well he could have me. No more games, no more retaliation. Fuck it. If he wanted me to fight so badly, then he would have to kill me. I wondered what it would be like to die. I hoped it would hurt. I deserve to hurt. I deserve this pain. Because I let him down. I hoped it would hurt like hell.  
  
I resumed my stoic state, eyes closed, tears still gliding silently down my cheeks. "Stupid fool." I felt his hot breath on my neck as he ripped off my shirt. He dragged his jagged fingernails across my chest. The wounds stung my skin as I let him take me. I didn't care. I just lay still.  
  
I deserve this.  
  
My mind was snapping. Every lustful growl that Ansem uttered was like laying a brick on a thin glass rod. My vision was blurred. My head hurt from crying. My whole body ached. My blood, Sora's blood, even some of Ansem's blood were smeared across my naked chest. I didn't care. I needed this, wanted this. To hurt like I had made him hurt.  
  
I deserve this, I deserve this.  
  
I turned my head to the side as Ansem slid his tongue up my neck. I saw Sora's broken body lying on its side, facing me. It almost looked like he was sleeping. Though he would never wake.  
  
"I'm sorry... I never meant for it to be this way."  
  
"What did you say?" I didn't answer. I just looked at Sora. He would never smile again, laugh again, never... be. And it was all my fault. I never meant for it to be this way. I'm so sorry. So sorry.  
  
I deserve this, I deserve this, I deserve this.  
  
Without my noticing, Ansem had removed the rest of my clothes along with his own. I hadn't paid attention to what he was actually doing, just the location and intensity of pain I was feeling. Then I was filled with a horrible realization. He was /raping/ me. Well, maybe you couldn't call it raping. I didn't resist him. Though I didn't want this to be happening, I made no attempts to stop him. I deserved every second of pain. My heart shattered. Whatever was left of my mind was lying on the floor next to Sora, in the pools of his blood. "I love you..."  
  
Hurt me, rip me, tear me. I need to burn.  
  
My involuntary mantra was the only thing keeping me from fighting back. I deserve this, I deserve this, I deserve this. Everything is my fault. Everything. All the pain he had felt was caused by /my/ hand. I deserve to hurt like I made him. I deserve to die.  
  
To die. I want to die.  
  
Ansem's climax barely affected me. "Sora." I didn't yell it, but I didn't whisper it, either. I just sort of said it, as if he had been standing next to me, awaiting a response to an unasked question. This enraged Ansem. He stood, amber eyes flashing dangerously at me. "Is that what you want?" He pointed to Sora's lifeless body. I didn't answer, just stared from his hand to Sora's face. Ansem let out a growling yell of frustration and anger and kicked Sora in the ribs. "He's dead! DEAD! His body is cold. Even you cannot warm the frozen touch of death. Forget him, and come with me." He stretched out his hand, waiting. I lay there, fear, anger, sorrow, pain, all coursing through my veins and out of the numerous wounds on my body. And I felt nothing.  
  
My determined eyes met his, glowing with lost hope and gentle resistance. I won't move. Not as long as you're here. Leave me. Let me hurt. Let me bleed. Let me die. This wasn't real. /I/ wasn't real. This was all some sort of horrible nightmare. Soon I would wake up and be back on Destiny Islands, having fallen asleep on the beach. Any minute now, Sora or Kairi would pour a bucket of water on my head and everything would be fine. But I knew it wouldn't.  
  
I deserve to hurt.  
  
Ansem left the hall, filling it with enraged screaming. Now I was truly alone. My body was sore from more than just physical abuse. I mentally willed myself to hurt more. I could no longer cry. There was nothing wet left to cry with. My head throbbed, my heart beat furiously. I was dead. Not really dead, but there was nothing to live for.  
  
The dim light played on Sora's face, casting a soft glow about him that made the bits of scarlet glisten. He looked like a fallen angel. I used what was left of my strength to drag myself over to him. Gently, I placed a hand on his cheek. Ansem was right, he was cold. No warmth could he offer me, nor I him. I wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face in his hair and making horribly pathetic noises that could be mistaken for laughter. But I was crying. I would never cry for myself. I cried for his broken innocence, his wasted young life, his shattered childhood. I choked his name out from time to time. I didn't know what I was doing anymore. I don't care. Not about anything. I barely even care for him anymore. But I did then. I cared so much I thought I might've burst.  
  
I finally opened my eyes, looking over his shoulder. My sword was there. Sweet release. Happy ending. I rolled over Sora's body, groping hopelessly for the weapon. Finally, I wrapped my fingers around the cool metal handle. I admired its simple beauty in my hands. What a beautiful work of craftsmanship. The blade was so sharp it looked as though it could never be dulled. I caught the reflection of my eyes in the black steel. They weren't my eyes anymore, but those of a madman. I looked from the blade to my wrist. Though it was already covered in Sora's blood, I could still see my blue veins coursing beneath my flesh. "I'm sorry." I placed the hilt of the wing-shaped sword on my left wrist, pulling it effortlessly across my smooth skin.  
  
My soul is leaking out.  
  
I smiled in a twisted way at the blood pouring from the open wound. So this was what it felt like to die. I'm going mad. What a fantastic sensation. Every stabbing pain is a memory, an abandoned hope. I moved the blade into my injured hand and mirrored the cut on my other wrist. White-hot flames seared my veins as I looked down at them. I was dying.  
  
I turned back to face Sora, holding him once again. The crimson of his clothing and our blood matched perfectly. We were drenched in each other's blood. How simply wonderful. I was feeling the pain I had caused him. Though I hadn't experienced the mental issue of being betrayed by my best friend. But hadn't Ansem betrayed me? Or had I always known that he would destroy me? How stupid I was. How stupid I am.  
  
Blackness.  
  
Dark emptiness swirled around me. I was dying. It felt good. I retreated into the hollowness of oblivion, welcoming it to swallow me whole. It did, and my body was useless.  
  
++  
  
This is nothing but a bloodstained memory. In essence, I am still here. Nothing but my heart and bits of my weak mind hang on. My weak fucking mind. Ansem still uses my heart to wield the keyblade. He ravages the worlds as he ravaged my body. My body is gone. To where, I don't know. I don't seem to know anything anymore. But I do know one thing:  
  
Game Over.  
  
  
  
  
  
Let's pretend. Happy end. 


	2. Author's Notes

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even my heart.  
  
  
  
I'm glad people liked this. I was kind of depressed when I wrote it, and from time to time I just stop giving a fuck as to whether people like me or not. This idea had been playing in my head for a while; I just needed the time and motivation to actually type it out. I don't like parts of it, and I intended to fix them from the start. If you've already read the fic, read it again. I tweaked it a little, omitting stupid lines and adding more profound ones. I really wanted to explore Riku's madness a bit more. Anyhow...  
  
This fic had outside inspiration other than the twisted thoughts in my head. I didn't like the Game Over screen for KH at /all/. It's kinda lame. He's just floating there with his heart over his chest. Wow. Yeah, a lot of other RPGs do that too, but I just didn't like that. It offered no closure, no anything. It was just there. I own a Nintendo 64, and have had the pleasure of watching my sister play Banjo Kazooie about a million times. When you die in that game (after you've run out of lives) you get a rather elaborate Game Over movie. The bad girl, Gruntilda, gets what she wants (Banjo's sister's beauty) and all seems right for the villain. That's what I wanted from KH. It just kind of ends, like Sora's death means the end of all worlds. But they don't say that so you can't even assume /that/! Ok, maybe it would get boring after the umpteenth time of getting killed by a particularly hard boss, (which is why I wish you could skip the stupid cinema scenes. Do you /know/ how many friggin' times I had to watch Riku carry Kairi out of Capt. Hook's office when I had to fight Anti-Sora? DO YOU?) but at least it would be there. So this is my closure: Death, anger, fear, rape, madness, and suicide. Aren't I the happy camper?  
  
By the way, no, that was not supposed to be a happy ending. Those words at the end were added to deepen the sense of hopelessness and futility Riku feels (or felt, whichever). Of course, as is often the case with me, they're song lyrics, from Garbage's 'You look so fine.' Nice song. Buy their albums.  
  
If we were their condemnations  
  
If we were their projections  
  
If we were our paranoias I'd be joining you  
  
If we were our incomes  
  
If we were our obsessions  
  
If we were our afflictions I'd be joining you  
  
We need reflection  
  
We need a really good memory  
  
Feel free to call me  
  
a little more often 


End file.
